For Pretty, it was another mild night on the ship. She lay on her back, curled up under the blankets of her small cot and lazily reading a tablet with all the vigor of a lazy seal. Her fingers flicked from right to left, easing one viewing page to the next, each a different technical readout from the ship’s systems or a page from the ship’s manual. She sighed, dropping the tablet to her stomach and looking up and away at nothing in particular.

Her cot was not really hers, so to speak. It was nestled in the short hall between the Mess and the Medical Bay, one of four there. The others were vacant, as they always were, except for Pretty’s. Her cot was different from the others, a small makeshift set of dividers giving her a small bit of privacy when Tannis or the others came through to Medical. The Captain had built it for her after it became clear she would be staying for more than a night. 

Pretty sighed. “If only he could have built me a heating system in this cot,” she thought, fighting a shiver. She sighed harder and put the tablet away in the small compartment that hung from the makeshift shelter beside her. She kicked her blankets off, scooted to the foot of the cot and stood. She slipped on her boots, shiny and black and new, and then shimied into her favorite loose, red knit sweater. She made the short walk to the Mess. 

It was at least 10 degrees warmer there. A rectangular room with an entrance at each end, two short rectangular tables running on each side of the walkway with three stools per side. The walls were a mixture of various cabinets, counters, and appliances paneled in a yellow plastic trimmed in white. Funnily enough, it was the most brightly lit place on the ship.

She went and sat at the end of the right table nearest the front entrance and felt the warmth spreading from there. This is where Pretty preferred to sit, in the warm current of air that emanated from the bottom deck, a gentle stream coming from the Primary Conduit. 

“Its strange how air can rise here…” but the thought was a mistake. Pretty felt her stomach turn as she remembered exactly where she was. Vertigo hit, a harsh wave of nausea filled her then, the only thing she could do to fight it was place her forehead against the hard metal of the table. 

She felt like she couldn’t get a grip on the fact she was in space. 

A rough hand clapped her shoulder and she jumped despite herself. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching. 

“Rough night, Pretty Face? I told you that we keep some meaner liquor than you’re probably used to.” The man gave her shoulders a rough squeeze before letting go and coming around to sit across from her at the table. 

Pretty groaned. “Stop it, Blake. Please just stop it. I’ve told you my name a thousand times.” She looked up at him, scowling.

Blake was an interesting man. He was tall and muscular, his coveralls clinging tight to his body. His hair was kept at a buzz always, though sometimes he would let his beard grow out. This was one of those times. He had an intense gaze, light colored eyes that always seemed to pierce through whatever lie before them. At first she thought that he might be a scoundrel with the way he looked at her, but soon she recognized that he simply looked right through whatever he happened upon.  A mercenary, a killer, a mechanic, he was right at home in the darkness of space. 

Despite his more annoying behaviors, she felt Blake was more akin to an older brother… whatever that would be like. The jury was still about whether he was a scoundrel or not, though Tannis seemed to like him and Pretty trusted her. 

Blake shrugged, sticking out his tongue. “I like Pretty better.” He was grinning. Without standing, he reached out towards the nearest wall and opened a cabinet, grabbing two silver packets from a small box and closing the cabinet. He dropped one in front of her and began opening up his own. Inside was a thick jerky of some sort, and despite the fact that Pretty hadn’t yet looked up, she could smell the sweet, peppery fruit that was scavo, a spacefarers most essential survival food. 

Pretty sighed and lifted her head, grabbing the packet. There would be no escaping space unless she decided to return to her homeworld. That just simply was not going to happen. 

Soon, two others entered the Mess. 

The first was Tannis from Medical. She was a slip of a woman, her jumpsuit hanging loosely around her body, her face a mixture of harsh angles. Despite this, her expression contained exuberance and warmth, a friendly air that, to Pretty, was one of the few things keeping her sane on the ship. She was friendly, quick to affection, yet would watch a face with such focus at times that Pretty felt she was looking past it to the mind within. Some of Tannis’ responses made Pretty think she could do it, too. 

The other person, well, what Pretty was trying hard every day to remember was a person, was MAL. An android, MAL was an entirely robotic entity. It did not have a gender, though because of its masculine shape most on the ship referred to it as a He. But the vast damages that had been done to it in the last decades, or centuries, was extensive. This marred its dark metallic surface and scarred its frame, giving it a barbaric, patchwork look that she didn’t really know how to feel about. Its face was robotic, two large saucers for eyes over a simulacrum of a mouth that moved when it spoke. Though he moved with a fluidity that betrayed its mechanical nature, there was a certain haphazardness to it that gave it a distinctly human impression. Something about it…. Pretty couldn’t name why her gut turned when it entered the room. 

Tannis ran a hand gently across Pretty’s shoulders as she walked behind her, then sat next to her. “How are you, Casia?”

Pretty looked at Blake and smacked the table. “See, there are people here who can remember names well.” This drew a laugh from the two of them. 

MAL sat down next to Blake. “I think that he likes your reaction more than the name, Pretty. Sorry, Casia.” MAL’s voice was mechanical, similar to a humans, but uncannily different. 

Pretty shook her head, scowling and eating another bite of scavo. She didn’t have an appropriate response to that, but when she looked up and saw the smug, amused grin, she knew that MAL was right. 

There was a series of 3 soft beeps from the intercom above and a short pause. Then, “Incoming coded message. Who wants a crack at it before I get it into the computer?” It was Marto, the sometimes pilot and sometimes communications officer. 

It was Pretty who responded first. “I got it!” She jumped up, scrambling from her seat and to her cot in a quick moment. She grabbed her Technical Analysis Goggles and her tablet and ran back to the Mess. It was the first time she had gotten a claim on a coded message and was interested to see their reaction to her method. 

She slipped her goggles on, the transparent lenses becoming opaque as she activated them. The connection to her tablet was automatic and data began pouring down the two screens in front of her eyes. She couldn’t see the others, but she could hear their surprised whispers as she worked. 

The message came up in her goggles and she ran the most basic ciphers she knew. In a few moment’s time, she had it cracked.

Pretty cleared her throat and began speaking. “Ahem! To the Obsidian Shard, a warning for your next mission. The Target will be difficult to find and will require special surveillance technology. Stop at the attached coordinates to be outfitted as such before meeting at our rendezvous. MP.”

She took off her goggles, looking at the rest of them with a smile. They all looked at her, surprise plain on their faces, even MAL, if you could call that expression one of surprise. 

“What?” Pretty asked.

“Did you really decode the message that quickly?” Blake asked. He was stunned enough that he was holding a strip of scavo halfway to his mouth, as if he had forgotten about it. 

Pretty nodded.

“Hot damn, that was fast,” Tannis said. “It would have taken me half an hour before I gave up and fed it to the computer.”

Pretty looked back and forth between Blake and Tannis. “You mean you guys never decode the messages? You always compete to claim them when they come in.”

Blake laughed. “Never in my life.”

Tannis smiled. “It’s a running joke. After a successful mission, the captain challenged us to try and decode a message when we were all drun… that was not successful.”

Pretty looked at MAL. “Don’t you have any decryption programs?”

MAL gave a stiff shrug with his limited shoulder movement. “I was not designed with such intelligence in my base programming. While my new core has the capabilities to perhaps assimilate a decryption program, there are none currently.”

Pretty looked incredulous for a moment. “So you decode it with the… navigation computer?” Her tone was offended enough that they all began to laugh, even MAL. It was such a sincere laughter that even Pretty couldn’t hold back and soon joined in. 

Tannis shrugged, smiling. “Its gotten us this far.”

Once the laughter had subsided, Blake stood, finishing off his scavo. “It’s been nice, folks. I gotta hit the Bridge.”

Tannis waved, Pretty stuck her tongue out and then smiled. MAL stood also. “I will return to Engineering.”

Soon, it was just Pretty and Tannis sitting in comfortable silence. Tannis was resting her chin on the heel of her palm, her eyes locked on Pretty’s face. “You know, I’m wondering how you do it.”

Pretty smiled. She felt very comfortable around Tannis, the woman was very non-abrasive and kind, her eyes like an open embrace. “I don’t really know,” Pretty said.

Tannis laughed. “Do you even know what I mean?” Pretty shook her head, earning another small chuckle. “I wonder how you keep yourself so calm despite everything you’re facing.”

The smile faded from Pretty’s lips, and she felt that cold pang in her stomach that was becoming more and more common when talking to Tannis. Somehow Tannis could see through the facade she had created, and could tell that she was struggling with this whole place. 

But this place was much, much better than what she was used to. 

Pretty looked at the table, averting her eyes from Tannis. “I guess my answer still stands. I don’t know.”

Tannis didn’t answer right away. “You can tell me about whatever’s on your mind. I am a doctor, after all.”

Pretty nodded, but didn’t really know what to say. A lot of her doubts had more to do with her inexperience. With space travel, with this line of work, with freedom. Freedom most of all was the thing she had little idea what to do with. 

She looked back up to Tannis. “I left my world for something better, for a chance to see… more.” She paused, sighed. “I don’t know what I want to see, or where I want to go. I come here and I don’t know anything…” her voice trailed off, and she felt like a child. 

Tannis was nodding. “It is kind of hard to know what to do at all, right?” Pretty looked at Tannis and gave a weak smile and a small nod. Tannis continued. “I will tell you this one thing that has helped me through the hard times.”

Tannis sat up, clasped her hands together for a thoughtful moment, and then said, “Purpose cannot be found in words, but it will be found in your experiences. If you can be patient, it will show its face to you.”

Pretty nodded, her eyes down. She didn’t know if she fully believed what Tannis was saying, but the kindness of it was welcome. It felt like the warm gusts from the Engine Bay, or perhaps like a soft blanket. It helped stave off the ever present cold that permeated the black. 

Pretty closed her eyes, reaching out with one hand until Tannis took it and gave it a gentle squeeze. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to deal with soon.